Sick Day

Cuddled up in bed in the middle of the afternoon with my jammies, a cuppa tea, and allll the work that's due tomorrow.

I dropped Latin, if there's anyone left in the universe that hasn't yet heard.  Oh frabjus day, calloo, callay, etc.  Except it sort of isn't.  I did enjoy Latin well enough (especially when it was going well), but it took so many hours to get everything straight in my head.  My other classes suffered, and forget about any extra reading or writing.

So my minor is a dream of the past now, but it's okay.  I've started writing again.  I've got a short story about Edinburgh I wouldn't mind posting an excerpt to sometime (after I've gone through another draft or two). I've also thrown myself into rewriting another short story, this one fantasy.  It's an odd mix of Rumplestiltskin and a Grimm tale and a Greek myth and I love it.  Finding the proper ending is painful, but it's a good kind of painful.

Here, have another photo.

This one's not as exciting as the others.  It's the (currently) dull view outside my window.  It's been raining all afternoon.  The ground is thoroughly soaked, but I'm inside lying in bed, drinking wine, and working on my novel.  My essays are done and handed in, I survived my Latin midterm, I finally ate a healthy meal this morning, I got to skype for almost two hours with my friend (codename:) Pencaitland, and I'm only a thousand words behind schedule.

Okay, yes, there are still a million things that absolutely must be done, and soon, but for now, just--just give me this small victory.  I made it through the week.  (Thank god it was only four days.  Happy Veteran's Day, my loves.  Go hug a vet.)

Meh and etc.

Today was the first of what I'm sure will be many frustrated moments that all sound vaguely similar:  "I want a week off.  Two weeks.  What happened to my eternal summer?!"

Dyed my hair today.  I'd call it an auburn-y color now, but there are those who might call me ginger.  Can't decide yet if I'd agree with them.

Oh, and that part about rocking Latin?  Lies.  Braggery.  (<--not a real word)  Boasting and arrogance.  I'm drowning in declensions and it's horrifying.  Horrifying like a horror movie.

I wish there was more time for fun writing, but whatever.  November's coming up, which means Nanowrimo (which means writing a 50,000 word story in 30 days).

Life, it do go on.

Oh gosh, and guess what!  Google "weird penicillin dreams."  Seriously, go do it and see what the first thing that pops up is.  Life goal on the bucket list: check!  BECAUSE I'M AWESOME. :)

Oopsies, Oreos, Latin, and Halloween.

I got a gentle nudge today from a lovely family friend about how I maybe ought to update my blog.  Oops.  In my defense, everything from move-in to the start of classes has either been too hectic or banal to write about.

So now I’m sitting at my nice desk in my lovely bedroom in my new flat in the postgrad/grad housing munching on double-stuf Oreos when I should be making dinner and avoiding tonight’s Latin assignment.

I’m rocking Latin this go-round, by the way.  A+.  It’s making me feel pretty awesome.

I’m taking a Dante class as well, and my flatmates and I have decided that one of our Halloween costumes this year are going to reference the first canto (chapter) of the Inferno.  Before Dante descends into hell, he tries to skip all the bad stuff and climb a mountain that leads straight to heaven and god and his lifelong unrequited love who’s suddenly thoroughly enamored with him.  He’s thwarted, though, by a leopard, a lion, and a she-wolf, all of which have very deep allegorical meanings that nobody actually knows.  Soooo… clever animal costumes!  I’m going to be the leopard.

And The Brother, who is taking the train up to spend Halloween weekend with me, is going to be the tenth doctor from Doctor Who!  I think I’m more excited about it than he is.  Maybe I’ll dress up as Donna Noble one night.

So many oreos.  I’m going to turn myself into a fatty, and then I won’t fit into my leopard costume.  Brilliant.

Heyyy, hallelujah.

Did you know there is an ice rink on the first floor of the Eiffel Tower? You probably did. Probably because I told you. Multiple times.

Seriously, though, it was the discovery of a lifetime. Even though London turned into a girl and refused to go skating with me. I made him hold my bag and shoes while I skated in circles and was generally giddier than I have been since the first time it snowed out here. (Before everything turned to ice and slush.) (It's all melted now, though. It's actually been quite warm the past few days.)

London hadn't been to Paris since he was little, so we got to do all the touristy stuff without me feeling stupid, since I've done most of them before. We stood in line to see the Mona Lisa (as well as the picture on the cover of the APEC textbook!) and went to the top of the Arch de Triumph, which I think is probably my favorite view of Paris. We walked up the Eiffel Tower, although the top was closed (probably due to wind. The weather was a pinch bipolar while we were there--sun, wind, rain, the works.). The first floor wasn't so difficult, but the stretch from the first to the second was a pinch painful. The view was definitely worth it, though, and it was about half as cheap as taking the elevator.

(There'll be more Paris stories to come. And hopefully pictures as well, if I can get London to send them to me. I accidentally left my camera at the hotel the first day, and it died one picture in on the second day. lol @ me.)

The day after we got back (last Monday, the tenth) was the beginning of semester two. Blegghh. It has not been a pretty week, all thanks to academia and administrators who really couldn't care less about one more student. Yes, I feel bad for them because I'm sure their job sucks big time, but if someone doesn't like dealing with people who need help then it's probably time to consider a change of careers.

I'm bitter about a few things, in case you couldn't tell. It's not just that I'm used to CCS. The woman I spoke to was mean.

Basically I have to make it through one more semester without a writing class. I'm not sure how well this is going to go--I'm already completely apathetic about my other classes. Except maybe my literature class.

Guess what, though. I PASSED LATIN. Not sure what grade I got, but I PASSED.

Guess what else. If I'd failed, I would have been sent home.

That particular tidbit is giving me a bit of a delayed-reaction-panic-attack.

More procrastination.

(At least everyone's panicking about the Latin midterm?)

I'm not on vacation, I'm not on vacation, I'm not on vacation. (Maybe one of these days I'll start believing it... Probably the day I realize I'll have to repeat beginning Latin.) I did study some today, but I also went with a couple archery friends to do the whole tourist thing and wander through Holyrood Palace, which is where the queen stays when she's in Edinburgh. (Mary, Queen of Scots also lived there.)

I'll admit I didn't find the inside of the palace particularly impressive. There were some cool bits--a chair that had all of Robert Burns' "Tam O'Shanter" engraved onto it, a room where Mary, Queen of Scots' husband killed her Italian friend (by stabbing the poor guy fifty-six times), including the exact spot where the body was abandoned, and... um, what else? A frighteningly dinky little staircase. Some odd Hercules paintings in the king's bedroom.

We'd had enough fun hanging out on the walk out to the palace that once we were supposed to quiet down and listen to those ridiculous little pre-recorded tours (which were told by very boring voices, I might add) it was just... you know. A little difficult to settle.

Okay, we were like a bunch of high school freshmen trying to remember how to behave like adults. Having way too much fun to be quiet and learn something, to even really care about learning something, and just wanting to be entertained.

And it probably didn't help that one of us (codename: London, because that's where he did his undergrad) kept making obscene jokes. Fart jokes about the throne, for pete's sake.

The outside grounds, though--god, it was beautiful. The leaves have begun to change color, the grass is blindingly green (and perfect in all respects, since no one's allowed to walk on it) and there are so many different kinds of trees here!

Crooked view of the castle! :)

Aaannnd...

Ruins of the abbey that's attached to the palace. After a lengthy, roundabout and basically useless discussion, we're still not sure why the abbey was left to crumble while the rest of the palace has been so painstakingly kept up.

(You can also see a bit of Arthur's Seat in the background behind the abbey. It's the mountain-looking peak. Haven't been up there yet, but it's supposed to be a fantastic view.)

I love, love love this city. Not gonna lie, there's bit a bit of uneasiness/off-kilter-ness setting in, which might just be a bit of culture shock, but I am happy here. There are still some things that make my head spin a bit, there're things that still feel foreign, and I've definitely been (mostly unsuccessfully) fighting off vacation mode since I arrived, but Edinburgh is the "different" kind of life I've been looking for since I realized how weird southern California can be sometimes. I do miss home, but I'm not homesick. (Except for the sun and beach.)

This Friday a friend from Santa Barbara (Sunshinebucket) is flying in from Bordeaux, where she's studying for the semester. She'll be here until next Wednesday. I'm excited--Scotland is on her bucket list, so we're going to cram a whoooole lotta fun into a little less than a week. It can totally be done. :)